Should've Been a Poet
by WhiteDressGoldCross
Summary: After finally bringing down his parents, Daniel Grayson has everything. Except a functional family. Except the love of his life. Alone and miserable, he wonders how his life got so lonely.


Should've Been a Poet

AN: This one-shot takes place right after Daniel gains control of Grayson Global. This is just my idea of what was running through his insanely gorgeous head.

Disclaimer: I don't own Revenge or any characters in Revenge. If I did, Daniel would definitely be a poet.

Daniel Grayson leans back in his desk chair in his new office. Just hours earlier, Daniel gained control of his father's company. He should've been ecstatic. He should've felt fulfilled. After all, Daniel had been groomed all his life for this very moment. But as he examines an old picture of Emily Thorne on his computer, all Daniel can think is that he has never been so miserable.

Unable to look at Emily's beaming smile a second longer, Daniel turns off the monitor hastily. The large, empty office becomes completely dark. He sits in the lightless room, relishing the seemingly infinite silence. Daniel probably should go home, but he can't face his parents now. Maybe not ever.

Betraying Victoria and Conrad Grayson gives Daniel a wicked thrill and a guilty ache at the same time. He wonders what kind of son dethrones his parents so publicly, so mercilessly. With a stomach-turning twinge, he decides that his betrayal was inevitable. Two monsters could only ever raise a viler, sicker fiend. Daniel has spent his entire life fighting against his Grayson, scheming impulses. And now, it seems that his inheritance has caught up with him.

What a difference a year makes. Emily's face flashes in his mind, and then Emily with the suspiciously helpful Aiden crashes to the front of his thoughts. Daniel pushes against his temple with two fingers, trying to dissipate the pain of seeing Emily moving on. At least, Daniel supposes, that Emily had the decency to not hook up with his best friend. He wished he could say the same for himself.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Daniel let out a quiet moan. Dating Ashley was doomed from the start. Ashley was cunning and exotic, but those weren't his reasons for choosing her. Ashley was an opportunity for Daniel, and being the astute businessman he was, he couldn't possibly pass her up. Ashley was Daniel's perfect chance to create a crack in Emily Thorne's seemingly untouchable exterior. Not even perfect, icy Emily would be able to tolerate the union of her ex-fiancée and best friend without revealing emotion. But when Emily merely smiled with genuine approval for the couple, Daniel's secretly poetic, fragile heart shattered into a million pieces.

The only thing left Daniel could think of that might perturb Emily was if he became a bona-fide, greedy Grayson. So Daniel threw himself into plotting and scheming, utterly determined to pry Grayson Global from Conrad's grasp. After all Daniel's dirty, back-handed deals and malicious backstabbing awarded him the Grayson throne, Emily just politely congratulated him and went out to lunch with _Aiden. _

Sitting in the dark corner office, it suddenly occurred to Daniel that Emily might have a type. With the exception of Jack, Daniel had only ever seen Emily around rich businessmen. This realization felt like jumping into the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of December. On the surface, Daniel clearly fit all her requirements. What made his whole body freeze was his realization that his being was the problem. He couldn't wrap his head around how he could wholly love someone who sent only cordial pleasantries his way. Sitting in his enormous, stark office, he agonized over his seemingly inevitable path to self-destruction.

After a heavy sigh, Daniel absent-mindedly checked his cellphone for the time. His phone read an ungodly hour, which Daniel acknowledged with a wry, mirthless smile. Sitting alone in a shadowy office seemed awfully whimsical to him. He felt a long buried urge to sit back down and write a poem. He closed his eyes, watching effortlessly wrought stanzas dance together in his mind. But Daniel shakes his head, and the words scatter back into the dimmest depths of his mind.

With a quiet, pained laugh, Daniel takes one last look at his new home base, wondering if it will ever lose its bleakness.

"Should've been a poet," Daniel murmurs as he walks out the door.


End file.
